So I'm in this place. There is the outside. Kind of a funny view that I'm sitting in this body. Sitting at this table with my hands moving and stuff coming out. Then inside my head there's another me. A dreaming person just wanting space to fill in all the gaps that I'm feeling outside of me. To just take up air in my lungs and leave everything else kind of slow and still. With eyes closed its way easier. To sit in this place and listen to everyone else. Conversations, computers, lights, air, laughter, copiers, doors opening and closing, the world outside the windows. It's endless outside of here and inside. So why so bored? Why would sitting here create some illusion of life outside not filling me with being? Does this happen to you? Does it happen to all of us? Something must be wrong.
The stuff we read, the decisions we've made. The understanding that the world is flexible, fluid, and made more out of the space in-between things than the things itself. That's how I'm feeling now. To look and be in those spaces. Maybe it's from bicycling. Of moving in-between places being more of an experience than at those places sometimes. I think of my life like that. When sadness came or joy came. They arrive inside of you. Where did they come from? I decided not to think about where I was and how I was feeling when I got there. Instead I think about the journey. The place here and now which is actually, movement. We're never still. Life is never still. This I see now is a transient sort of understanding. As an artist this is important for me. So much of my life is wrapped up in making things. Now the making and the things can be done together and I believe that's what needs to happen in a revolutionary experience for the world and the mixed consciousness that exists. The controllers and the controlled. I think alot about the Burmese monks walking in the rain. I love them. The want for change is one thing. The desire for something new is another. To do something to invoke change is yet another. But, what change do you want? Where do we want all of this to go? That's what I'm feeling. Deep inside I'm feeling stuff has to change. Not personally that seems a part of it but, in a big worldly sense. I have wealth and understanding. My life is comfortable and easy. I love so many things but, I don't need to be loved back. To see the world through these fuzzy kind of eyes and let it be real to me. The fuzzy parts. Let that be real.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
time again to spell out the stars and lines
We said goodbye and hello. Seeing above the smog was kinda tricky today. It took sometime to sit and think.
Ride my bicycle through traffic and home again. Eat the same thing as before and then back to the wondering.
Loving it all needing it all and being what you want the world to be.
Honest and understood.
Hands still as old music plays you've maybe heard a 100 times and each time it sounds perfect for where you're sitting and what you're feeling.
Ride my bicycle through traffic and home again. Eat the same thing as before and then back to the wondering.
Loving it all needing it all and being what you want the world to be.
Honest and understood.
Hands still as old music plays you've maybe heard a 100 times and each time it sounds perfect for where you're sitting and what you're feeling.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Turn Again and Turn Towards This Time
I stumbled home at 4:30am. I love LA.
This is it. This is my life and I am no longer waiting for it to begin.
Right now I am listening New Order’s version of Ceremony. It’s been on repeat since October.
Foreverever had a party on his rooftop last night following the bike treasure hunt that I could not participate in.
I, the BF, and some other friends watched a series of the lauded, 365 plays instead. It’s a great concept, but man it’s lame. I don’t regret going, and I feel inspired, just not blown away. Drinks followed, then the rooftop party in the toy district. Foreverever has a great studio.
Our neighbors invited us over for drinks when we got home. It was already late, but I was game. Not a big drinker, in fact, I am rarely seen with booze in hand so last night was special.
I could spend my years trying to analyze the lyrics of Ceremony, but the general feeling I get is of the urgency of this moment. This fucker is here and then its gone. And you can do what you want, feel anything you want, but the moments, they are just going to keep passing you like indifferent busses, groaning and ambling away from you.
My parents did their best to give us what we needed, but they couldn’t shield me from the horrors of the Teen Years, in the 80s no less. I did a great deal of letting the busses pass me by. I existed in a state of unwanted-ness, and I ensured that, languished in it, comforted by Echo and the Bunnymen, Joy Division, and the Smiths.
Still love those bands, but now my answer to this moment is Yes, and they make a great soundtrack.
At the after hours soiree, these tunes played. The host alerted the guest to her relatively recent boob job. One of us replied, “I noticed those were great boobs.” And we were encouraged to feel them. They felt great. Technology is so amazing. We learned a lot about how they were installed, saw BEFORE shots, felt them again. We also learned that this was the woman’s way of getting back at her now ex-boyfriend. She knew that he was cheating on her, so she somehow got him to pay for her boob job, then broke up with him shortly after. “PAYBACK! You dumb motherfucker. This is what I call PAYBACK! Look at these things, they’re amazing, and I told him to take his ten thousand dollar ring and shove it up his ass. This is the best break up gift ever.”
As I said, I love LA.
This is it. This is my life and I am no longer waiting for it to begin.
Right now I am listening New Order’s version of Ceremony. It’s been on repeat since October.
Foreverever had a party on his rooftop last night following the bike treasure hunt that I could not participate in.
I, the BF, and some other friends watched a series of the lauded, 365 plays instead. It’s a great concept, but man it’s lame. I don’t regret going, and I feel inspired, just not blown away. Drinks followed, then the rooftop party in the toy district. Foreverever has a great studio.
Our neighbors invited us over for drinks when we got home. It was already late, but I was game. Not a big drinker, in fact, I am rarely seen with booze in hand so last night was special.
I could spend my years trying to analyze the lyrics of Ceremony, but the general feeling I get is of the urgency of this moment. This fucker is here and then its gone. And you can do what you want, feel anything you want, but the moments, they are just going to keep passing you like indifferent busses, groaning and ambling away from you.
My parents did their best to give us what we needed, but they couldn’t shield me from the horrors of the Teen Years, in the 80s no less. I did a great deal of letting the busses pass me by. I existed in a state of unwanted-ness, and I ensured that, languished in it, comforted by Echo and the Bunnymen, Joy Division, and the Smiths.
Still love those bands, but now my answer to this moment is Yes, and they make a great soundtrack.
At the after hours soiree, these tunes played. The host alerted the guest to her relatively recent boob job. One of us replied, “I noticed those were great boobs.” And we were encouraged to feel them. They felt great. Technology is so amazing. We learned a lot about how they were installed, saw BEFORE shots, felt them again. We also learned that this was the woman’s way of getting back at her now ex-boyfriend. She knew that he was cheating on her, so she somehow got him to pay for her boob job, then broke up with him shortly after. “PAYBACK! You dumb motherfucker. This is what I call PAYBACK! Look at these things, they’re amazing, and I told him to take his ten thousand dollar ring and shove it up his ass. This is the best break up gift ever.”
As I said, I love LA.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Dust to Front
Ooooohhh Shit. Now I found it. Typing and some music. So tonight was kind of like any TGIF. I made it to the studio after work and made more make believe. Then I got home to clean up and work on the shine and absinthe in the works. Once things were finishing up I decided to drink a half glass of absinthe. A proper dose if you will. The only other time that I’ve drank absinthe is with my dad at the Czech embassy in Washington D.C. So whatever I made isn’t the same thing but, it’s strong probably attributable to the high alcohol content. Anyways, I’m glancing at lights and feeling in a certain sort of place that most artists find themselves in the romantic sense. And now I’m wondering why I’m typing any of this. I’m listening to Codeine. Remember those dudes? It was like emo make out music back in the day. So know I’m relating this experience of me ingesting these herbs and this sugar and yeast thing I made and the affects it’s having on my consciousness. All of our consciousness. Because, now you’re reading this and it’s all being introduced to you and entering you. Soon I will be brushing my teeth and begin a new journey to dreams and darkness but, before then something has to be said. Maybe it’s a part of what I’m feeling. The motions I was performing tonight. Alone in darkness with fire and altering substances. The thought of being a shaman and living that feeling more than I know. I like being alone and it causes some conflict. I miss my friends and then I don’t. Times like right now have happened to me over and over again. But, instead of a leather covered sketchbook to write in I have this blog. So here’s the stuff minus drawings of what is going on.
It’s all progressing and certain guilt is being felt. The world is dying slowing yet fast enough we can see it coming and we still build, love, and create in order to survive. The crawling hands pull back at the leaves that are forever gone. We wait to see when the sky is understood and nothing else has ever been that orange. All brilliant all lies. Laying it down to be eaten. The sun of the moon and all the things that go with it. The terrible truth is crawling across the counter. Find comfort with those ants they’re just living like you. No wisdom no smoke no sage it’s all in just us I guess. We could be feeling this because, a poison has entered us said to be a black bile it runs through us creating all the shadows and disbelief. What will we all do? What can anyone do? Watch that blur in your eyes come true. The dancing and shouting will keep happening to you.
It’s all progressing and certain guilt is being felt. The world is dying slowing yet fast enough we can see it coming and we still build, love, and create in order to survive. The crawling hands pull back at the leaves that are forever gone. We wait to see when the sky is understood and nothing else has ever been that orange. All brilliant all lies. Laying it down to be eaten. The sun of the moon and all the things that go with it. The terrible truth is crawling across the counter. Find comfort with those ants they’re just living like you. No wisdom no smoke no sage it’s all in just us I guess. We could be feeling this because, a poison has entered us said to be a black bile it runs through us creating all the shadows and disbelief. What will we all do? What can anyone do? Watch that blur in your eyes come true. The dancing and shouting will keep happening to you.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Bees
So as most of you have heard the bees are dying. There have been numerous discussions about this in the media but, nobody really seems too worried. It could be some crazy bee disease, like “bee aids” or a parasite that is spreading through the bee community. Some examinations have been done and no conclusive evidence to the widespread decrease in bee populations is understood. Without bees we can’t have pollination and without pollination we won’t have fruits, flowers, and other foods. .. It could mean the infrastructure of the United States agricultural production could come to a screeching halt and change our lives forever. Just from bees dying. . .
I like bees a lot. They are really fascinating creatures. They create beautiful hives, have complex roles for their society, have a queen, look cool, have stingers, and kill all the male drones every year. There are 1000’s of different species and they create honey, one of the most perfect foods in the world. My grandfather use to have bees. He had some bee boxes and he would go and collect honey. Unfortunately when I was kid I was too young to help take care of the bees and I think he was worried I’d get stung and my dad would get mad. I really wish that he would have given me one of those bee hats and a smoker and sent me to the bee box to help him out. I hope someday I can have bees like he did and maybe I’d let my grandkids get stung by bees and look into a bee hive and gather honey that they’ll eat later that day on a piece of wheat bread.
So what spawned the writing of this post about bees is I’ve seen a couple dying bees recently. In previous posts I’ve mentioned the fact that I make moonshine. A few weeks ago as I was distilling in my backyard I saw a bee kind of hanging around the still and this was at night. From my understanding bees are at home at night sleeping in their cells and taking a break from flying around all day. So a few nights ago a bee showed up again. This one was really fucked up. Like the previous bee he was kind of crawling around on the ground and seemed to be definitely lost or something. This bee I noticed at one point was particularly close to my feet and was kind of rolling on to its back like it couldn’t get on its feet. I tried to flip it over with a leaf but, it just kept rolling back onto its wings. At some point I lost sight of the bee and I don’t know where it ended up.
The next morning I was in the kitchen and I noticed a dead bee on the cutting board. It wasn’t squashed or anything just lying there dead and not moving. Maybe it was sleeping I’m not sure. Either way this could have been the same bee or a new bee that was in a state of death around me. I’m sure you were like most kids and usually when you interacted with a bee it was buzzing around you, somewhat menacing considering the loud stingy sound it makes and you felt this fear. This fear of being stung and maybe instilled in you from Looney Tune cartoons that bees get into formation and chase you forming arrow shapes and you can only escape by diving underwater. Well now this was a new way to interact with this amazing creature. To be around it when it wasn’t in complete control of its airspace. Demanding you to leave it alone just by zig zaging around your head so you could hear its buzz and see its distinctive yellow and black stripes. It was sad to see these bees like this. So I don’t know what’s happening. I hope we’re not killing all the bees like we’re killing so many other things in the world: ice caps, whales, and each other.
I like bees a lot. They are really fascinating creatures. They create beautiful hives, have complex roles for their society, have a queen, look cool, have stingers, and kill all the male drones every year. There are 1000’s of different species and they create honey, one of the most perfect foods in the world. My grandfather use to have bees. He had some bee boxes and he would go and collect honey. Unfortunately when I was kid I was too young to help take care of the bees and I think he was worried I’d get stung and my dad would get mad. I really wish that he would have given me one of those bee hats and a smoker and sent me to the bee box to help him out. I hope someday I can have bees like he did and maybe I’d let my grandkids get stung by bees and look into a bee hive and gather honey that they’ll eat later that day on a piece of wheat bread.
So what spawned the writing of this post about bees is I’ve seen a couple dying bees recently. In previous posts I’ve mentioned the fact that I make moonshine. A few weeks ago as I was distilling in my backyard I saw a bee kind of hanging around the still and this was at night. From my understanding bees are at home at night sleeping in their cells and taking a break from flying around all day. So a few nights ago a bee showed up again. This one was really fucked up. Like the previous bee he was kind of crawling around on the ground and seemed to be definitely lost or something. This bee I noticed at one point was particularly close to my feet and was kind of rolling on to its back like it couldn’t get on its feet. I tried to flip it over with a leaf but, it just kept rolling back onto its wings. At some point I lost sight of the bee and I don’t know where it ended up.
The next morning I was in the kitchen and I noticed a dead bee on the cutting board. It wasn’t squashed or anything just lying there dead and not moving. Maybe it was sleeping I’m not sure. Either way this could have been the same bee or a new bee that was in a state of death around me. I’m sure you were like most kids and usually when you interacted with a bee it was buzzing around you, somewhat menacing considering the loud stingy sound it makes and you felt this fear. This fear of being stung and maybe instilled in you from Looney Tune cartoons that bees get into formation and chase you forming arrow shapes and you can only escape by diving underwater. Well now this was a new way to interact with this amazing creature. To be around it when it wasn’t in complete control of its airspace. Demanding you to leave it alone just by zig zaging around your head so you could hear its buzz and see its distinctive yellow and black stripes. It was sad to see these bees like this. So I don’t know what’s happening. I hope we’re not killing all the bees like we’re killing so many other things in the world: ice caps, whales, and each other.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Monday, September 3, 2007
hot cold
It’s finally not hot anymore. We’ve had a little heat wave here in the Los Angeles region of the United States and it’s been very unbearable. I grew up in a very humid and hot place in VA so I was trying to think why the heat here was so much worse. Two reasons. I don’t have my parents AC and they have no “real” trees here. The trees make such a difference. So the sun is setting in the west and my body has this awkward feeling of the skin being a little sticky and tense. It’s a very uncomfortable feeling but, every few seconds a breeze blows across the back of my neck so that keeps me in my skin for a while. It’s been a day off from work and in that day, I got a ton done. Cleaned the parts of the house that I live in, updated my website, organized photos and now it’s more work into the cool eve. Moonshing will begin soon but before then I felt like sharing a rambling thought of life with you all.
I couldn’t get into the studio today because, the heat would have made art making terrible and frustrating. I got some time to get things done so I’m not too worried about it. Just like life you have to avoid those tense moments in the studio. I feel like life is full of all these moments of restraint and understanding and I’ve been seeing that I am not always what I want to be. But, then what is it that I want to be? Right? Do you ask yourself this? Every morning are you questioning what you’re doing and where you’re heading and in the evening an uncertain sadness might creep into you. I’ve seen this happen to people I love and myself. What can give us a constant state of insurance? Like my bro. . .over on the other blog we wonder when we can trust others and when we can trust ourselves. In the work place it’s one thing and in our life and relationships it’s another. This struggle for understanding and happiness will go on and on I guess and I’m just embracing the riddles and troubles and going for a ride. I’ve known this for a really long time it’s just nice to remind myself that it’s way easier than it seems sometimes. You have to follow you heart. Toward people, work, art, everything and then that feeling of doubt doesn’t really appear so often..
Sometimes the front of my head hurts and the back of my neck tingles. Especially if I’m drinking a smoothie and it’s super hot out and also when I miss the people I love and it feels like they’ve disappeared. What is that? What is so powerful about loving those around us that we feel immediate pain and wonder all consumed in us at once? We’ve shed tears, shouted, and been angry, wanted to run away, forget who we are and do something we would have never dreamed of 1 minute earlier. We can destroy these connections that exist between us with a few words or gestures. With almost nothing at all everything that is here and there between us can vaporize and we’re left with those roots inside us burning for the life they once had outside of us and in another.
The heat kind of tests these things. It makes us not ourselves and if we can just relax and hopefully have cool water to cover ourselves in then we can make it through it without catching on fire. The cool water of our thoughts and feelings. Maybe I’m delirious but I want you to know I’m out here and I love you. Where ever you are. Is this why the middle east is in so much suffering? I know many reasons are apparent but, isn’t it strange how a lot of suffering in the world occurs in hot dry places and the peaceful countries are in cold dark places?
I couldn’t get into the studio today because, the heat would have made art making terrible and frustrating. I got some time to get things done so I’m not too worried about it. Just like life you have to avoid those tense moments in the studio. I feel like life is full of all these moments of restraint and understanding and I’ve been seeing that I am not always what I want to be. But, then what is it that I want to be? Right? Do you ask yourself this? Every morning are you questioning what you’re doing and where you’re heading and in the evening an uncertain sadness might creep into you. I’ve seen this happen to people I love and myself. What can give us a constant state of insurance? Like my bro. . .over on the other blog we wonder when we can trust others and when we can trust ourselves. In the work place it’s one thing and in our life and relationships it’s another. This struggle for understanding and happiness will go on and on I guess and I’m just embracing the riddles and troubles and going for a ride. I’ve known this for a really long time it’s just nice to remind myself that it’s way easier than it seems sometimes. You have to follow you heart. Toward people, work, art, everything and then that feeling of doubt doesn’t really appear so often..
Sometimes the front of my head hurts and the back of my neck tingles. Especially if I’m drinking a smoothie and it’s super hot out and also when I miss the people I love and it feels like they’ve disappeared. What is that? What is so powerful about loving those around us that we feel immediate pain and wonder all consumed in us at once? We’ve shed tears, shouted, and been angry, wanted to run away, forget who we are and do something we would have never dreamed of 1 minute earlier. We can destroy these connections that exist between us with a few words or gestures. With almost nothing at all everything that is here and there between us can vaporize and we’re left with those roots inside us burning for the life they once had outside of us and in another.
The heat kind of tests these things. It makes us not ourselves and if we can just relax and hopefully have cool water to cover ourselves in then we can make it through it without catching on fire. The cool water of our thoughts and feelings. Maybe I’m delirious but I want you to know I’m out here and I love you. Where ever you are. Is this why the middle east is in so much suffering? I know many reasons are apparent but, isn’t it strange how a lot of suffering in the world occurs in hot dry places and the peaceful countries are in cold dark places?
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
moonshine
Yesterday was a strange day. The moon has been acting funny and it made me feel a rather distant yet familiar side of myself come awake and walk around me. The night before I was working on this batch of absinthe. It’s a mixture of moonshine, water, and pounds of herbs. The herbs soak in the shine and water and for the distilling process I needed to squeeze out all of the juices. So that’s what I did in the moonshine for a few hours. Squeezed by hand pounds and pounds of herbs. It was rather relaxing but, I think I absorbed most of its herbal power into my body. The next day I woke up like normal but, then once my body began moving things felt different. My pee smelled peculiar and then the rest of the day was rather strange and a cloudy vision seemed to fill me. On my way to work I decided to take a different route than usual. Could this be from an inherent chemical boost in creativity? I got to work faster than normal and felt like things were going well. Then my thoughts became dreamy and hopeful. Reality seemed tinged with beauty and far off yet closeness. This strange feeling of being here and no where at the same time. I felt stress. I hated being in my cubical and it was sending me into negative spaces. Those caves inside full of stalagmites and stalactites that have formed over the years with droplets of your fear and anger. I said things I didn’t need to say and I didn’t know why. I let the bats fly out of that cave and now I’m sitting at the edge of the cave shaking my head and thinking that the squeezing of wormwood and anise could be to blame for my tangled thoughts.
Well nothing is too blame. It’s just the way things seem to go sometimes. We are always looking for something in this world to hold on to and to feel confident will always be there with us. Part of that thing inside me that I carry around is my art even though it’s a crazy 20 headed monster that is hard to tame and is constantly digging into my soul for little things to call its own. Then it’s other people. Those people we love and care for. We make our lives fit together. Sometimes really well other times some pieces are missing or different turns are taken. We all need space to grow by ourselves and with each other. One morning will be perfect and you want to relive that moment over and over. Life feels wonderful and like everything you see is breathing and trying to talk to you. Other times the sunshine is empty and you just don’t feel like anything around you is real. Currently the smog laden city of Los Angeles is causing my hands to sink into the tar. The black boiling sea that surrounds me, hundreds of rivers all smoothed together with all these holes and places to navigate around. We’ll see what the next mornings bring and if this absinthe works out. . .
Well nothing is too blame. It’s just the way things seem to go sometimes. We are always looking for something in this world to hold on to and to feel confident will always be there with us. Part of that thing inside me that I carry around is my art even though it’s a crazy 20 headed monster that is hard to tame and is constantly digging into my soul for little things to call its own. Then it’s other people. Those people we love and care for. We make our lives fit together. Sometimes really well other times some pieces are missing or different turns are taken. We all need space to grow by ourselves and with each other. One morning will be perfect and you want to relive that moment over and over. Life feels wonderful and like everything you see is breathing and trying to talk to you. Other times the sunshine is empty and you just don’t feel like anything around you is real. Currently the smog laden city of Los Angeles is causing my hands to sink into the tar. The black boiling sea that surrounds me, hundreds of rivers all smoothed together with all these holes and places to navigate around. We’ll see what the next mornings bring and if this absinthe works out. . .
Monday, August 27, 2007
Babies are Small
Real quick.
I've noticed lately that baby strollers are eclipsing Hummers in stature, footprint, standard features, and eco-destruction. To the manufacturers of these Multiple Big Gulp conveyances, these rolling tailgate parties, aisle hogging parade floats for overindulged babies, FUCK YOU.
That's all.
I've noticed lately that baby strollers are eclipsing Hummers in stature, footprint, standard features, and eco-destruction. To the manufacturers of these Multiple Big Gulp conveyances, these rolling tailgate parties, aisle hogging parade floats for overindulged babies, FUCK YOU.
That's all.
Friday, August 24, 2007
waking up in a mango colored tent
The perfect sunlight of sound
everything felt like it should and can’t not be
The touch breaths lucid eyes
dreams real all there for the taking
Slow movements before that cup of coffee
not too strong not too weak
Look at pictures read about people
hear stories see the color of your eyes
Just wanting it all to start over again
relive it again and again
Tortured happiness.
burn that bridge when we come to it
Being left on an island
stranded forever together
Making tree houses with all the parts no one wanted
little steps for little feet
Then the words came from the sweaters
people had visions while walking to the store
Everything tasted sweeter more alive
all those things we ever said and did were nothing
Living in this perfect nothing and then doing everything
right again over and over
So many wrong turns taken
when the cellar door was left open
All those dark parts came rolling out
we picked them up one by one and then let them go
Free in the green forest we’ve never been in
sleeping together in a mango colored tent
everything felt like it should and can’t not be
The touch breaths lucid eyes
dreams real all there for the taking
Slow movements before that cup of coffee
not too strong not too weak
Look at pictures read about people
hear stories see the color of your eyes
Just wanting it all to start over again
relive it again and again
Tortured happiness.
burn that bridge when we come to it
Being left on an island
stranded forever together
Making tree houses with all the parts no one wanted
little steps for little feet
Then the words came from the sweaters
people had visions while walking to the store
Everything tasted sweeter more alive
all those things we ever said and did were nothing
Living in this perfect nothing and then doing everything
right again over and over
So many wrong turns taken
when the cellar door was left open
All those dark parts came rolling out
we picked them up one by one and then let them go
Free in the green forest we’ve never been in
sleeping together in a mango colored tent
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Things feel crazy today. ..
The news. . .WTF??? So many people dying in Iraq. All around the world. Why does it make me sad? Why do I feel connected to photographs of rumble, human suffering, all that stuff. It must be the connection to humanity. That acceptance of wanting to feel love and kindness for my fellow humans.
It’s going to be like this for a long time I feel like. This world doesn’t seem like it’s looking any better and maybe in 50 years bombs will be going off here and blowing up our landscape. . .This blog will be like a joke. It’ll be a memory. . We’ll talk about how we use to have the internet and cell phones and food. . .
Could it be possible? Yes. That’s what has happened to all those people in Iraq. Their lives use to be just like ours if not better. Different but, the same. Now it’s an apocalypse. Everyday you can read a new article about the war. Woman widows becoming prostitutes to buy food for their children. Families selling their virgin daughters to the wealthy. Bombs blowing up everyday, everywhere! This is real, people!!!!
I woke up this morning and watched some rap videos. Obviously as the afore posting indicates I love rap music. But, these videos are what you would stereotypically expect from the commercial rap community. Dude with his shirt off, tats, baseball hat, big bootie girl, money, cars, blah, blah, blah. . .It’s so U.S.A. it’s unbelievable. The object based nature of our lives. My life is very far from this world. I think about 99.9997% of people’s lives are. Even the people in these fantasy songs and videos. They know it’s a joke. We know it’s a joke. But, still it’s entertaining, it’s fun to think about being in that world. And most people want to be or think that world could actually be real and try to live it everyday. I’m in LA so I see this constantly. . .
I feel that’s what people are doing in the U.S.A. our lives are like those crazy blingtastic videos for real! Compared to the rest of the world we have our shirts off, giant cars, food, women, wealth, awesome teeth. It’s probably even crazier once you start breaking down how much we have and get and how easy it is to just be a citizen here. Michael Moore can criticize the government and so can I but, it’s what the American people believe in that’s what you need to think about.A balance is here between the people, government, companies, and everything else that is finely tuned and unbelievable that it’s all working. The markets are starting to go down so maybe it’s over. Think about Ralphs, the freeways, the internet. Everyone can get that stuff and have it as a part of their lives. Everyone reading this has these elements in their lives and uses them. I try not too but, millions of others do everyday in Los Angeles. But, it’s not that easy. I feel like crap about it all. I make things. I’m materialistic. I exist in this world that I don’t believe in and it’s all insane.
Life is beautiful and amazingly unpredictable. I love that. I feel like some truths do exist out there. Love, nature, and yourself. It’s nice to have all those things. . .So go back to reading NYtimes.com. Forget my preaching. Go back to trying to understand how we exist in this whole thing called Earth. Have fun and feel happiness and sadness. It’s all we have.
It’s going to be like this for a long time I feel like. This world doesn’t seem like it’s looking any better and maybe in 50 years bombs will be going off here and blowing up our landscape. . .This blog will be like a joke. It’ll be a memory. . We’ll talk about how we use to have the internet and cell phones and food. . .
Could it be possible? Yes. That’s what has happened to all those people in Iraq. Their lives use to be just like ours if not better. Different but, the same. Now it’s an apocalypse. Everyday you can read a new article about the war. Woman widows becoming prostitutes to buy food for their children. Families selling their virgin daughters to the wealthy. Bombs blowing up everyday, everywhere! This is real, people!!!!
I woke up this morning and watched some rap videos. Obviously as the afore posting indicates I love rap music. But, these videos are what you would stereotypically expect from the commercial rap community. Dude with his shirt off, tats, baseball hat, big bootie girl, money, cars, blah, blah, blah. . .It’s so U.S.A. it’s unbelievable. The object based nature of our lives. My life is very far from this world. I think about 99.9997% of people’s lives are. Even the people in these fantasy songs and videos. They know it’s a joke. We know it’s a joke. But, still it’s entertaining, it’s fun to think about being in that world. And most people want to be or think that world could actually be real and try to live it everyday. I’m in LA so I see this constantly. . .
I feel that’s what people are doing in the U.S.A. our lives are like those crazy blingtastic videos for real! Compared to the rest of the world we have our shirts off, giant cars, food, women, wealth, awesome teeth. It’s probably even crazier once you start breaking down how much we have and get and how easy it is to just be a citizen here. Michael Moore can criticize the government and so can I but, it’s what the American people believe in that’s what you need to think about.A balance is here between the people, government, companies, and everything else that is finely tuned and unbelievable that it’s all working. The markets are starting to go down so maybe it’s over. Think about Ralphs, the freeways, the internet. Everyone can get that stuff and have it as a part of their lives. Everyone reading this has these elements in their lives and uses them. I try not too but, millions of others do everyday in Los Angeles. But, it’s not that easy. I feel like crap about it all. I make things. I’m materialistic. I exist in this world that I don’t believe in and it’s all insane.
Life is beautiful and amazingly unpredictable. I love that. I feel like some truths do exist out there. Love, nature, and yourself. It’s nice to have all those things. . .So go back to reading NYtimes.com. Forget my preaching. Go back to trying to understand how we exist in this whole thing called Earth. Have fun and feel happiness and sadness. It’s all we have.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Can you believe what see when your coffee cup is empty.
This rap song is inspired by Lady Sovereign
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_soverign
Wha Wha Wha Wha Whaaaaaaattttttttt?
Inspired by the beats laid down
on the ground
like a bear skin rug
come alive
and bites the hunter on the ass
we got the words and beats
to make old peps get on top of their seats
and spin around
Spin around
spin spin arooooouuunnndddddd
until you can't touch the ground
Then comes the bio diesel trucksss
lifted on nitrousss
draggn' in da' back from all the free foods
and garden tools
that people need to survive in this waste land
with missy E to the left of me
Lady Sovereign to the right
Gandhi riding on the back
throwing broccoli to the kids
makn' 'em flip their lids
Everybody say hheeeeyyyy hoooooo
let Mumia goooo.
Heeeyyyy hooooooo
let Mumia gooooo
Hhheeeyyyy hoooooo
let Mumia gooooo
So now I'm got to the point
where I've rhymed enough to hurt my butt joint
I've given you free nuggets of thought
so don't get caught
Please be blessed that you can read
wake up everyday and maybe smoke weed
Take a deep breath for all the peace warriors
that are lying deep under tank tracks
Just wait until we all unite and attack
under that boom box in the sky and
make the government cry
we all go on and on
and on and on and on and on
singing for justice and peace
with all our hands held in the streetssss . .
peeeaaaacccccceeeeeeeeeee.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_soverign
Wha Wha Wha Wha Whaaaaaaattttttttt?
Inspired by the beats laid down
on the ground
like a bear skin rug
come alive
and bites the hunter on the ass
we got the words and beats
to make old peps get on top of their seats
and spin around
Spin around
spin spin arooooouuunnndddddd
until you can't touch the ground
Then comes the bio diesel trucksss
lifted on nitrousss
draggn' in da' back from all the free foods
and garden tools
that people need to survive in this waste land
with missy E to the left of me
Lady Sovereign to the right
Gandhi riding on the back
throwing broccoli to the kids
makn' 'em flip their lids
Everybody say hheeeeyyyy hoooooo
let Mumia goooo.
Heeeyyyy hooooooo
let Mumia gooooo
Hhheeeyyyy hoooooo
let Mumia gooooo
So now I'm got to the point
where I've rhymed enough to hurt my butt joint
I've given you free nuggets of thought
so don't get caught
Please be blessed that you can read
wake up everyday and maybe smoke weed
Take a deep breath for all the peace warriors
that are lying deep under tank tracks
Just wait until we all unite and attack
under that boom box in the sky and
make the government cry
we all go on and on
and on and on and on and on
singing for justice and peace
with all our hands held in the streetssss . .
peeeaaaacccccceeeeeeeeeee.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Morning
The light was still blue and gray.
The silhouettes of the lines and angles were
themselves and for the first time real.
All the stars were alone and forgotten.
We woke up with a rush, fell asleep again.
Our faces painted
the smell of gasoline on our hands.
The dreams were of memories
the emotions kept hold even in waking.
This space was left for us.
Between the trees by the rocks and hidden in shadows.
You sat reading a borrowed book
with shoes on
the door open
morning light
giving perspective.
I was on the edge of the bed.
Closed and mind open.
I saw the body still.
His life is our love.
Can you believe all these fires and dreams forever?
Twisted names called lives.
It’s hard to even wonder when it started or ended.
These bubbles of existence
each floating by
to its own place in the sun.
Where it’s all going?
Have I been there?
Have you always been here?
Movements of revolution in the myths
new stories being written
in the land where stories started.
Can we hold on to all of this beneath us?
The water is among us and killing.
Two hands holding as the eyes see darkness.
Breaths slower deep calm believing.
You told me everything.
Every word a million times more real
than any thought.
I see only what I want to see and let my blindness guide me.
The sky is now white and nothing else is needed.
The silhouettes of the lines and angles were
themselves and for the first time real.
All the stars were alone and forgotten.
We woke up with a rush, fell asleep again.
Our faces painted
the smell of gasoline on our hands.
The dreams were of memories
the emotions kept hold even in waking.
This space was left for us.
Between the trees by the rocks and hidden in shadows.
You sat reading a borrowed book
with shoes on
the door open
morning light
giving perspective.
I was on the edge of the bed.
Closed and mind open.
I saw the body still.
His life is our love.
Can you believe all these fires and dreams forever?
Twisted names called lives.
It’s hard to even wonder when it started or ended.
These bubbles of existence
each floating by
to its own place in the sun.
Where it’s all going?
Have I been there?
Have you always been here?
Movements of revolution in the myths
new stories being written
in the land where stories started.
Can we hold on to all of this beneath us?
The water is among us and killing.
Two hands holding as the eyes see darkness.
Breaths slower deep calm believing.
You told me everything.
Every word a million times more real
than any thought.
I see only what I want to see and let my blindness guide me.
The sky is now white and nothing else is needed.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Crazy on Board
My commute is quite different from foreverever’s. I am one among the legion of half awake car commuters who choke the southland with heat, smoke, and anxiety. My drive spans 25 miles from my comfortable urban center to the end of civilization, where salad bars are banned, and dogs with 8 saggy tits rule the land. Aunty Entity played by Tina Turner in chaps runs this place.
My challenge in the morning is not so much staying alive while in a zen space, rather getting there on time, in one piece, without killing anyone. I drive like I ride my bike. Darty, aggressive, stealthy. As a working stiff, I’m not making art because I’m too tired, so I fill the boredom by recreating my last game of Crazy Taxi on the 405.
I have to actively choose to be passed by other cars. I love to hear the sound of my engine pegged somewhere around 3800 rpm, which translates to about 90 mph. Sometimes, I imagine that I am driving so fast that my car and I disintegrate sublimely into the ether. I drive in the left lane with my windows down so I can hear the sound of the wheels, the exhaust overrun, the sound of the heavy breathing typewriter stuffed behind me, all reflecting against the retaining wall.
Driving ultimately is a bad idea. It is ego expressed in its filthiest form. Mass transit riders know the art of graceful surrender. They surrender to the train, the bus, the throng, weather, labor unions, angry train operators and bus drivers, stinky passengers, and they shrink their footprint to only that piece of mobile real estate imprinted by their butts and/or their feet. They are the serenity prayer in motion.
Drivers are the diametric opposite. We exist under an Astrodome of false notions. We believe that we can influence our arrival time. We believe in short cuts, secret passages. We rely on painted lines to keep us from harm. Our extremities are constantly engaging some control device, eyes scanning ahead and behind, mind tapping its fingers, calculating and recalculating. Our footprint is defined by speed, sight lines, and reaction time, and could easily measure up to 400 square feet. A driver cares only about piercing the space-time continuum. Any break in the logjam is our opportunity to blast off to the next bottleneck. That’s why we speed to the red light. We think we can touch the hand of god in between lights.
Commuting is inherently miserable. No iPod can eliminate it, they can only mask it with your own creative play list, and even still, you can hear its rumble beneath “Under Pressure”. And since I don’t have adequate chaps and feathers, I need to frame my daily race to and from Thunderdome in some way that makes it as fun and as thrilling as being chased by the citizens of Bartertown.
My apologies to everyone in my wake.
My challenge in the morning is not so much staying alive while in a zen space, rather getting there on time, in one piece, without killing anyone. I drive like I ride my bike. Darty, aggressive, stealthy. As a working stiff, I’m not making art because I’m too tired, so I fill the boredom by recreating my last game of Crazy Taxi on the 405.
I have to actively choose to be passed by other cars. I love to hear the sound of my engine pegged somewhere around 3800 rpm, which translates to about 90 mph. Sometimes, I imagine that I am driving so fast that my car and I disintegrate sublimely into the ether. I drive in the left lane with my windows down so I can hear the sound of the wheels, the exhaust overrun, the sound of the heavy breathing typewriter stuffed behind me, all reflecting against the retaining wall.
Driving ultimately is a bad idea. It is ego expressed in its filthiest form. Mass transit riders know the art of graceful surrender. They surrender to the train, the bus, the throng, weather, labor unions, angry train operators and bus drivers, stinky passengers, and they shrink their footprint to only that piece of mobile real estate imprinted by their butts and/or their feet. They are the serenity prayer in motion.
Drivers are the diametric opposite. We exist under an Astrodome of false notions. We believe that we can influence our arrival time. We believe in short cuts, secret passages. We rely on painted lines to keep us from harm. Our extremities are constantly engaging some control device, eyes scanning ahead and behind, mind tapping its fingers, calculating and recalculating. Our footprint is defined by speed, sight lines, and reaction time, and could easily measure up to 400 square feet. A driver cares only about piercing the space-time continuum. Any break in the logjam is our opportunity to blast off to the next bottleneck. That’s why we speed to the red light. We think we can touch the hand of god in between lights.
Commuting is inherently miserable. No iPod can eliminate it, they can only mask it with your own creative play list, and even still, you can hear its rumble beneath “Under Pressure”. And since I don’t have adequate chaps and feathers, I need to frame my daily race to and from Thunderdome in some way that makes it as fun and as thrilling as being chased by the citizens of Bartertown.
My apologies to everyone in my wake.
I'm back. 6 months later?
Now I'm back at the blog thing. I kind of found this because, a friend invited me to be on his blog. And then I found mine.
It's a perfect day in LA. Overcast and cool. I got into work early so I have this extra time to send out my thoughts before I need to go and do stuff. My time spent here at work has been full of loathing, acceptance, and rejection. It's just really difficult to feel connected here. I think more about work than I do about my own art and it really troubles me.
Last night I was in the studio, writing some letters to friends and painting some stuff and I kept thinking about work. I hated it. Not being fully committed to my art practice is fine with me because, of my belief in balance. Everything needs to feel balanced but, right now it's definitely not This life with 40 hrs of a job and then the studio shoved into the spaces between eating and sleeping is putting me into a strange state of mind.
I need to keep creating. People want to see new stuff. I want to make new stuff. But, I need a few days of just straight art making. It's so hard to juggle everything but, I know it's going to be like that for awhile. Who knows how long maybe forever.
One thing that has really helped me is riding my bicycle. Something so simple yet so rewarding. It feels great to ride but, it's so stressful to ride in Los Angeles. Since I'm commuting I'm out there with all these morons rushing off to their jobs. I have to call them morons. Everyday I feel my life is blowing by me at 30 miles an hour. This morning this big ass work truck with a trailer buzzed by me and on the other side of me was this jersey wall. I couldn't believe that asshole. Because, of the wind he creates and that stupid wall and my literal 6 inches I was from his truck I was just holding my line to keep from going down. Something like this happens all too often.
About 75% of the time, the offending vehicle stops 50 feet down the road. At this point I usually get excited. It's my opportunity to retaliate. I did NOT flick him off or yell ASSHOLE which is what I was thinking. Maybe it was too early, maybe I was just in a different space or the saddest thing could be maybe I'm getting use to this shit. I just rode on and I'm still wondering why.
I'm really vocal when I'm on my bicycle and I'm constantly taking a lane or cutting cars off. Ringing my little bell. Just letting them know I'm out there. I have a right to be there and if they're going to drive like shitbrains then I'm going to show them I'm not going to take it. I feel like I need to fight back to let people know the road is for me too. So to just ride on was kind of against my whole bicycling philosophy in Los Angeles. In one letter I was writing last night I said how we need to spread a love virus in the world. The opposite of 28 Days Later. Maybe this will all happen. I don't know.
About 10 minutes after I was almost killed something else happened. I saw a guy ride by with one leg. He was on a nice single speed with synergy wheels. I was track standing at a light and he was doing a loop in a gas station and before the light was green he was blowing by me. We were both going up this little hill and he was totally pulling away from me. It was incredible. I was trying to catch up with him but, he totally beat me to the next light and ran it. I caught up with him a few blocks later and saw him weaving through traffic and then he disappeared. I pulled up to the light and looked around and he was gone. I looped around in the crosswalk and waited for the light. I thought about how hard it must be for him to stop. How he probably never stops unless he's finishing his ride.
He's making his way through the streets in his own way. His own style. He rides in a way that I never could because, it's his world that he's riding in. I like thinking about that. When you're in a car, in traffic, your share the world with 100's/1000's of other people. You don't have choices you're stuck. Following the flow. I think that's why people floor it to red lights and drive super stupid. So that they can feel they're in some control with the world around them. But, they're not. It's a joke. But, on the bicycle you totally have freedom and control. Except when some crazy driver doesn't see you or thinks your going 3 miles an hour. Every bicyclist rides in a different style and they all make it to where they're going in their own way. We need some more of that free thinking and freedom out there.
It's a perfect day in LA. Overcast and cool. I got into work early so I have this extra time to send out my thoughts before I need to go and do stuff. My time spent here at work has been full of loathing, acceptance, and rejection. It's just really difficult to feel connected here. I think more about work than I do about my own art and it really troubles me.
Last night I was in the studio, writing some letters to friends and painting some stuff and I kept thinking about work. I hated it. Not being fully committed to my art practice is fine with me because, of my belief in balance. Everything needs to feel balanced but, right now it's definitely not This life with 40 hrs of a job and then the studio shoved into the spaces between eating and sleeping is putting me into a strange state of mind.
I need to keep creating. People want to see new stuff. I want to make new stuff. But, I need a few days of just straight art making. It's so hard to juggle everything but, I know it's going to be like that for awhile. Who knows how long maybe forever.
One thing that has really helped me is riding my bicycle. Something so simple yet so rewarding. It feels great to ride but, it's so stressful to ride in Los Angeles. Since I'm commuting I'm out there with all these morons rushing off to their jobs. I have to call them morons. Everyday I feel my life is blowing by me at 30 miles an hour. This morning this big ass work truck with a trailer buzzed by me and on the other side of me was this jersey wall. I couldn't believe that asshole. Because, of the wind he creates and that stupid wall and my literal 6 inches I was from his truck I was just holding my line to keep from going down. Something like this happens all too often.
About 75% of the time, the offending vehicle stops 50 feet down the road. At this point I usually get excited. It's my opportunity to retaliate. I did NOT flick him off or yell ASSHOLE which is what I was thinking. Maybe it was too early, maybe I was just in a different space or the saddest thing could be maybe I'm getting use to this shit. I just rode on and I'm still wondering why.
I'm really vocal when I'm on my bicycle and I'm constantly taking a lane or cutting cars off. Ringing my little bell. Just letting them know I'm out there. I have a right to be there and if they're going to drive like shitbrains then I'm going to show them I'm not going to take it. I feel like I need to fight back to let people know the road is for me too. So to just ride on was kind of against my whole bicycling philosophy in Los Angeles. In one letter I was writing last night I said how we need to spread a love virus in the world. The opposite of 28 Days Later. Maybe this will all happen. I don't know.
About 10 minutes after I was almost killed something else happened. I saw a guy ride by with one leg. He was on a nice single speed with synergy wheels. I was track standing at a light and he was doing a loop in a gas station and before the light was green he was blowing by me. We were both going up this little hill and he was totally pulling away from me. It was incredible. I was trying to catch up with him but, he totally beat me to the next light and ran it. I caught up with him a few blocks later and saw him weaving through traffic and then he disappeared. I pulled up to the light and looked around and he was gone. I looped around in the crosswalk and waited for the light. I thought about how hard it must be for him to stop. How he probably never stops unless he's finishing his ride.
He's making his way through the streets in his own way. His own style. He rides in a way that I never could because, it's his world that he's riding in. I like thinking about that. When you're in a car, in traffic, your share the world with 100's/1000's of other people. You don't have choices you're stuck. Following the flow. I think that's why people floor it to red lights and drive super stupid. So that they can feel they're in some control with the world around them. But, they're not. It's a joke. But, on the bicycle you totally have freedom and control. Except when some crazy driver doesn't see you or thinks your going 3 miles an hour. Every bicyclist rides in a different style and they all make it to where they're going in their own way. We need some more of that free thinking and freedom out there.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
The first Blog breath taken
Hey ya'll, I've been reading a blog here and there and then thinking about how I never update my website foreverever and I like writing about stuff that happens to me and all of my random thoughts so I guess the power of the blog is going to be the perfect resource to do all of this stuff. So what inspired me to start this blog was seeing my roommate Katie perform with her Harmonium Orchestra. They performed last night at the Echo Curio . It was really beautiful and inspiring and I was just sitting there and thinking about nothing and everything and I knew I wanted to tell more people about it so the idea of making a blog came into my vision.
I don't really know what else to say right now. This is kinda the test run.
I don't really know what else to say right now. This is kinda the test run.
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